


Nine Blessings and Nine Sorrows

by IrisAnne



Series: shit ideas that should never come to fruition but they did so now i gotta deal with it [3]
Category: youtube - Fandom
Genre: :), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Based on a Vocaloid Song, Best Friends, Established Relationship, Gen, Messiah | Messiahs, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Song Parody
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-07-17 07:50:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16091246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrisAnne/pseuds/IrisAnne
Summary: The love of the gods is the only truth. --Do we have to impose this on our children, too?----Marzia is chosen to be the next Messiah that will save the world from ruin, the one destined to collect the Nine Heavenly Blessings and bring them to the Tower. With her loved ones at her side, she makes the treacherous trek of collecting the Nine Blessings and light the Torch of Life at the top of the Tower. But the thing is -- the Blessings are among the most coveted treasures of the world -- what originally brought the world to ruin.Who is she to stop her friends -- the ones corrupted by greed and vanity -- from coveting the Blessings for themselves?





	1. PLAYWRIGHT

**Author's Note:**

> yah this is a parody of one of my fave songs bc i thot it wus funie lol soz four knot righting anything during the summer i wus to sad allison play wake me up (wake me up before you go-go)
> 
> this was also originally intended to be part of an on-going series I am going to write but i wus like "nah" lol
> 
> enjoy my babeys ;;)

~Nine Blessings and Nine Sorrows~

**Characters**

MARZIA, an Anilossiesen seamstress, the next Messiah

FELIX, the town leader of Anilossiese, Marzia’s fiance

AMY, a swordswoman from Amidalek

MARK, an Anilossiesen baker, Amy’s spouse

ETHAN, a freelancing dancer

SEAN, an Anilossiesen baker from Coill

SIGNE, a Vaelten botanist, PJ’s adopted sister

PJ, an Anilossiesen poet, Signe’s adopted brother

PHIL, an Anilossiesen shepherd, Dan’s adopted brother

DAN, an Anilossiesen shepherd, Phil’s adopted brother

 

Oracle, Priests, Priestesses, Anilossiesen Residents, Messengers, Unnamed Rubigon King, Torchbearer, Crowd, Unnamed Obutan Queen


	2. Act xx, Scene xx

**Act xx**

Scene xx

_Enter Oracle, Rubigon King, Priests, Priestesses and Crowd_

 

A fire burning on a torch glowed softly, it’s embers bathing the room in its orange blanket. Its onlookers stared with shifting glances, moving their eyes from the torch itself to amongst themselves.

The woman with a shock of black hair with streaks of gold that mimicked the fire cried out violently, her arms and legs restrained by the gold shackles they kept her confined in. Black tears poured out of her eyes, her anguish shared by those in the room with her.

A single hooded figure laid kneeling at the fire, chanting incantations along with the few priests and priestesses that dared to come forward. His back hunched and shoulders taut, he straightened up and faced his King and the crowd behind him with sad blue eyes and a downcasted face.

“The Time for Atonement is now,” he rasps out. “He has grown more and more angry with us, and we must accept His Blessing now lest we incur His Vengeful Wrath once more.” Murmurs from the crowd. The Oracle holds a hand up and the room falls silent. “The Blessings accepted by our last Messiah have been received with anger, resentment and spite,” a sharp sound cut through the air and the woman’s sobs increased tenfold, “and the next Messiah must accept His Will before this season’s crops wither.”

“Who is the next Messiah that must accept these gifts?” one crowd member asked.

“And what of this Messiah? What can we do to atone for her crimes?” another asked. More questions rumbled from the crowd. The Oracle lifted the veil covering his head. His eyes were clouded in a gray screen, the white tufts of his hair signaling his age that surpassed everyone in the room. Everyone fell into a hush.

“She must be taken to the tower and locked inside, and be responsible for the Burning Flame of the Heavenly Torch of Life,” the Oracle said. “Once fifteen years pass after the completion of this cycle, will she be freed from her confinement and be blessed as the next Oracle.” The woman cried out again, this time with a smile gracing her withering face. She pushed forward and fell to the Oracle’s feet, causing everyone around her to scurry away from them.

“Thank you,” she sobbed. "Thank you thank you thank you-" The Oracle didn’t even glance at her as the King’s guards dragged her away, her cries fading away into the darkness.

“And what of the next Messiah,” the King said -- no more a question than a command. The Oracle turned back to the fire, reaching out to one of the more younger priestesses. The young woman’s eyes turned into a gray color and she spoke in a soft voice that seemed to increase in volume without raising it at all.

“In a land on the brink of ruin where only their children survived, among ten of its descendants, the person to receive the next Messiah’s role and shield the world from ruin, Marzia Bisognin, seamstress of Anilossiesen of the Kingdom Obutut.”


	3. Act 1 Scene 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \---The world crumbles and so should thy hero. But she keeps her head high.

**Act 1**

Scene 1

Blue was the first thing she saw.

Then white.

Then pink.

Slowly the sky burned a passionate red, the smoke dancing and swaying gracelessly up into the summer’s air.

Everything felt like it was floating up into that once eternal blue sky, lost forever with the embers and ashes that will certainly be washed away with the coming rains. Marzia thought it was almost poetic, to die in the arms of the people she once loved, but could not stop the tears pouring from her eyes as she could no longer feel their loving embrace.

Her back hurt, she noted. She was laying on pieces of a broken wall, the concrete scratching her skin. If she concentrated enough, she could almost feel the sweat and soot and blood and grime sticking to the webs of her fingers, feel her tears and blood mix together on her hollow cheeks. Her lips were moist from her sweat, but every breath she took hurt all the same.

Marzia dragged her right arm to her right, her left to her left, and she tried to push herself off the ground. Once sitting upright, she looked at the scenery around her.

The remains of her home were nothing more than ruins in an abandoned city. Her mother, father, and brother laid in a group, her brother buried underneath her parents as they tried to shield them from whatever monster that had killed them all but her.

Marzia’s right arm slipped from underneath her body, and she gasped as the edge of the concrete slab she had been laying on cut her arm and her palm splintered itself on a large ruby-colored stone hidden within the concrete.

Marzia gripped at her wrist tightly as she grimaced at the stone, her breaths coming out in painful pants. She heard several small footsteps approaching, and she looked up to see a small group of about nine children---all different ages---look at her with hope in their eyes.

The tallest boy reached out to her first.

Marzia squinted her eyes up at him. His lips were moving, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying.


	4. Act 1 Scene 2

Marzia gasped softly, her eyes startled opened. She felt a warm hand caress her hair softly, and a soft lap where she rested her head upon and soft grass tickling her exposed legs.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

Marzia looked up at the kind voice speaking to her. Above her, encased in a halo of green from the leaf-filtered sunlight, was Signe.

“Did you have a pleasant dream?” Signe asked softly, not wanting to startle again the still-drowsy Marzia. Marzia lifted herself up from her position and shifted so she was sitting with her back to Signe.

“I don’t know,” Marzia lied. “It seemed like I was in a very long dream, but now I can’t seem to remember it.” Signe only smiled softly at her friend and stood up from her spot against the base the tree they had been laying under.

“What a pity. Long dreams are my favorite. Always so many stories that come out of it and so much art inspired by it,” she commented, stretching her arms up toward the sun and flexing her bare toes against the grass. “It’s nice outside today. I love the smell of grass and trees in the spring.”

“You know what’s something I noticed about you Woosh?” Marzia asked suddenly, hugging her legs closer to her chest. Signe turned to face her friend. “You move and act very soft-like. Everything you do and say is soft. Like you don’t have a hard bone in your body. I feel like if I move too hard you might lose your form. Like a ball of cotton, but sweeter.”

Signe only grinned at Marzia and plopped right next to her, careful that her blue skirt wouldn’t shift Marzia’s pink one.

“You’re very sweet yourself, Mars,” Signe offered in return. “Not overtly sweet like sugar, but more like a strawberry, or a cherry. Or like a pie, warm and sweet and just a little bit tart, but tastes exactly like home.”

“You’re very kind, Woosh.” Marzia threw her arms over her younger friend, Signe’s brown curls tickling the tip of her nose like the grass caressing her feet. Signe, although taken aback, didn’t hesitate to hug her friend back. “Come on, let’s go back to work.” Marzia stood up first, and helped lift Signe back on her own legs. They grabbed their brown leather-bound shoes and walked side-by-side back to a lovely white building that had a shop on the first floor and a house on the second.

The first floor was used mainly as a flower shop during the warm season (which Signe managed for the most part), and a tailor shop during the cold season (which Marzia managed). Because the shop was located a street or so away from the village square, business was slow but calm for both of the girls who worked the shop together.

The second floor, the living quarters, was home to Marzia and Felix, the village leader, and the rest of their friends who stayed with them every so often. Signe lived further down the street in the one-story houses with her brother PJ, who works at the library in the village square cataloguing all of the newspaper articles that are published once every two weeks and sorting through the very small collection of books the library owned.

A small bell chimed when the door to the shop opened, alerting Ethan, who was reading at the front desk of the shop, that the girls had arrived. His face brightened upon seeing the two, and he glided over to meet the two, the bells on his wrists laughing along with his movements.

“Hey guys! Back already?”

“Yep! We don’t want to keep you from your practice for your big performance tonight,” Signe explained with a playful wink.

“Thank you for watching over our shop, by the way,” Marzia added as an afterthought. “I don’t know what we would do without you.”

“Aw, shucks, it was nothing really,” Ethan blushed, tapping his foot lightly against the wooden floors. “Just let me know if you need anything else, yeah? I’ll see you guys soon!”

And with that, he flew like a hummingbird out the door and into the outdoors, the constant ringing of bells following right behind him as he ran lightly through the streets and back to Mark and Jack’s bakery in the entrance of the village to rehearse no doubt for his performance that night.

“He moves so swiftly and quietly,” Marzia commented, leaning against the doorframe to watch the youngest of their friends go. Signe hummed in agreement, already turning her back to her friend to pay attention to the leaves and the petals of her plants. 

“Like the wind that destroys the leaves of her plants,” another voice commented. Marzia and Signe, startled by the sudden third party, jumped from their positions. From the corner of her eye, Marzia saw a bushel of wild golden-brown curls emerge from underneath the leaves of a small tree Signe insisted on keeping indoors. 

“PJ!” Signe made her way over to her adopted brother with the intent to murder him for scaring her.  “How long have you been there for?”

“As long as I can remember, and you dear sister?” PJ grinned.

“It’s not nice to scare us like that, cousin,” Marzia said, placing a hand on Signe’s arm to stop her from committing murder in her shop. “Don’t you have books to put away?”

“Not today. No one in the schoolhouse has checked out a book recently, and Mrs. Mary said she wouldn’t return her book until tomorrow, so I thought it would be nice to hang out with you guys until Fe came home so I could bother him instead.” At this point the trio had moved back to the center of the store, where a small circle display showcased the the pottery Marzia and Amy made and doubled as the only “clearing” they had in the small shop.

“He said he wouldn’t be home for another hour,” Marzia offered. “If you’d like you can help Signe write her report on the plants in the garden outside.”

“Might as well get it over and done with.” PJ sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “C’mon, Wiish, the sooner we’re done the faster I’ll get to taste Marzia’s homemade food.”

“That’s both the most flattering and insulting comment I’ve heard you say today,” Signe said. They continued their banter as they walked out the back door and into the garden patch Signe kept year-round, taking their conversation along with them.

Marzia watched them go with a sad smile on her face. The sight of the two of them walking side by side was strangely nostalgic. Like a photograph left to fade in the sunlight.

The jingle of the bell resounded in the otherwise-empty shop, and Marzia turned to greet the newcomer with bright eyes and a sweet smile.


End file.
